Thinking About Painting
Gill and I have been reflecting on The Prado Museum. I had to ruefully admit that my return there after so many decades, while interesting, did not live up to my expectation. I had forgotten that it is a museum primarily of Spanish art and consequently there is a huge amount of religious art. After a while there is a sameness about the martyrdom and torture and ecstacy however heartless that sounds. That's why I love the Van der Veyden. It has a tenderness and humanity which is lacking in so much Catholic art which often appears to portray stock, out of the box grief. With Van der Veyden it's all too real. I'm not a huge fan of Goya so that's a big section of the museum written off. Rubens is is not on my list of favourites either. However, The other high point of the visit was the restored Fra Angelico Annunciation. The restoration was completed about nine months ago and the colours were magnificent and as fresh as the day they were painted. When I was younger I admired the work of Hieronymus Bosch but this time it failed to interest me that much. It just seemed like the work of a psychiatric patient on the wrong meds for too long. I got excited when I saw there was a Rembrandt section but sadly there was only one of his 'jobbing' paintings which wasn't up to much.
The whole experience made us think about the purpose of museums. I watched a group of primary age children in the Prado and, while approving of the idea that they should be exposed to art, I wondered how you can introduce art to children in a way they can relate to. Art is an intensely personal experience and you have to have some yardstick against which to measure the value of a piece of art to you. I don't, of course, mean monetary value. Otherwise, it's just another object - indistinguishable from a soap advertisement I have wondered, when I see the crowds in front of the Mona Lisa, what it is about that painting which resonates with them. One is tempted to think cynically that they are just queuing up because it is some sort of art icon. The fact that it exists is enough. You don't have to have anything more than that. Personally it leaves me cold. There are a thousand more interesting representations of females in art. For a painting to leave the canvas and enter our psyche there has to be something which connects the paintings to us or to our experience or belief system. That's why it's so hard to connect children with 'classical' art. However, I imagine if you stood a six year old in front of a Jackson Pollock they would say " I could do that" and indeed they could.
The whole experience made us think about the purpose of museums. I watched a group of primary age children in the Prado and, while approving of the idea that they should be exposed to art, I wondered how you can introduce art to children in a way they can relate to. Art is an intensely personal experience and you have to have some yardstick against which to measure the value of a piece of art to you. I don't, of course, mean monetary value. Otherwise, it's just another object - indistinguishable from a soap advertisement I have wondered, when I see the crowds in front of the Mona Lisa, what it is about that painting which resonates with them. One is tempted to think cynically that they are just queuing up because it is some sort of art icon. The fact that it exists is enough. You don't have to have anything more than that. Personally it leaves me cold. There are a thousand more interesting representations of females in art. For a painting to leave the canvas and enter our psyche there has to be something which connects the paintings to us or to our experience or belief system. That's why it's so hard to connect children with 'classical' art. However, I imagine if you stood a six year old in front of a Jackson Pollock they would say " I could do that" and indeed they could.
How could they possibly understand what Rembrandt is telling the viewer? But I understand all too well. Having said that, I'm aware that the six year old would probably be able to give me a pretty insightful critique of the Jackson Pollock. Horses for courses I guess!
